Hear Me
by Ceriadara
Summary: Kai contemplates suicide because of things said. He thinks about how little an impact his death will have on the world, and how little he thinks he is wanted in it. However, he soon finds out to the contrary…when it is far too late.
1. Default Chapter

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Hear Me

_By: Ceriadara_

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Kai contemplates suicide because of things said. He thinks about how little an impact his death will have on the world, and how little he thinks he is wanted in it. However, he soon finds out to the contrary…when it is far too late.

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Kai held the smooth knife in his hands. The blade was honed to glimmering, deadly perfection – he himself had seen Rei accidentally break through the chopping board with it just yesterday.

He didn't ask, didn't _want_ to ask, just why he had taken the knife from the kitchen and into the privacy of his room. He didn't know anymore, he was never sure of his actions, no matter how confident his mask. He hated the feeling of insecurity, uncertainty. He hated it with a passion.

He lifted the knife up to eye level, his bright crimson eyes now smoldering embers in the sheen of the silver metal. He gripped the black handle tightly with his hand, gazing into his own eyes.

In the burning orbs he saw nothing but failures and regrets that seemed to never let him rest. Words spoken and old wounds now floated to the surface. What did his life mean to the world, after all?

He had no family, save his grandfather, and who would count him? He had no ties to anyone – he and the Blitzkrieg Boys had long since drifted apart.

He had nowhere to go outside of this little dojo in Japan, and even here he felt he wasn't completely welcomed. His blading career could very well be over, thanks to his battle with Brooklyn, and his friends could very well choose to leave him. Who was he, really, then, without his blade as his identity?

No one.

Wave after wave of sudden despair crashed around him, pulling him under like a rip tide. He felt himself drowning again, but he didn't want to drown…

Or maybe he did, in a sense.

After all, if he was lost no one need worry or even think about him. If he was no one, who, then, would feel his loss?

No one.

No one.

He stuck the razor into his baggy cargo pocket, unlocking the bathroom door. Takao brushed past him on his way in.

"God, Kai, you take forever. Weirdo."

He felt something inside him clench at the word.

Weirdo.

_Freak!_

_Idiot!_

_Weakling!_

_Scum!_

Memories lapped over each other.

Who would miss him, indeed?

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He pulled his jacket closer to him as he strolled through the stone tablets, each bearing its own inscription. How he despised graveyards.

This one was large; already he could not see the fences, and he wasn't even to the center yet. So many had been buried here.

His thoughts grew muddled as he realized, dimly, that he was surrounded by "death". His hand slipped unconsciously into his pocket, fingers running against cool metal.

He shook himself out of the daze, shivering as the wind picked up again. He spotted a building nearby and took refuge in it, the wooden door opening easily enough. He sighed, leaning against the wall, running his fingers along the cool marble. He raised an eyebrow when his fingers came across something – and engraving.

He stood back, the light from the streetlamp just outside the hall spilling in enough for him to read the words.

_Ryuu Takamaru_

_Loving brother_

_Caring friend_

_Much missed_

Where was he?

He glanced down the hall and slowly realization dawned on him. They were marble boxes – places where those who had been cremated now lay. He wandered further down the hall, shoes clicking noisily against the floor.

He ran his fingers over another inscription.

_Yumi Tsumira_

_Faithful wife_

_Beautiful mother_

_Loved and remembered_

Loved and remembered?

Kai sighed, closing his eyes. He shouldn't care, really. It was probably just another teenage angst-phase. He was stronger than this…

Stronger?

There was that word again. Strong was linked inextricably to power, and power was the seductress who had been slowly killing him all his life. He couldn't stand it anymore.

He took out the knife. The blade gleamed in the white fluorescent lights of the streetlamp, a metallic sheen dulling his reflected feature.

He had almost immersed himself in the darkness when he was suddenly alerted to another's presence by the shadow in the doorway. He turned to find Rei staring at him.

"Kai…Kai, what are you doing?"

Kai said nothing, bringing the knife back down to his side.

"Kai…give me the knife, Kai."

"Stop talking to me as though I'm a child, Rei. I'm not going to kill myself just yet."

Rei bit his lip. "Kai, what's wrong?"

Ignoring his teammate's question, Kai instead asked gruffly, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. You missed dinner, but I set aside a plate for you."

Kai nodded his thanks, saying nothing. Rei took a step towards him, uncertainly. "Kai…please, Kai…"

Another step.

"What?" he asked gruffly, fighting the urge to take a step back.

Rei took another step forward. He could almost touch him now.

"Kai," Rei said, reaching out and grabbing the hand holding the knife. "I want to listen to you Kai. I want to get to know you. But…" He paused, as if unsure, and then plunged on. "But I can't do that when you're dead, Kai. I can't and you can't…and I really want to."

Rei looked him in the eyes and for the first time Kai felt that he was not, perhaps, worthless after all.

"C'mon…please? They're waiting."

At the mention of the rest of the team, the feeling faded.

"_Mr. Sourpus…"_

"_God, Kai, you're a dictator!"_

"_Lighten up."_

"_Ugh! You're, like, evil!"_

"_God, Kai, you take forever. Weirdo."_

"Maybe later."

"What?"

"Maybe later," he repeated, trying so hard to make Rei see…

"Oh…but…"

"You'll see me again, Rei. Don't worry."

"Alright," he said, slowly, hesitantly.

He didn't see…

He didn't hear…

He left.

And Kai was left alone with the knife and the memories and the feel of death and he suddenly knew that he needn't think anymore.

But one last question lingered on in his mind as he heard the knife clatter to the floor, followed shortly by himself, as he saw something liquid and think spattering the marble tiles.

_Why couldn't he…why couldn't they…hear me?_


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, beautimous readers of mine!

I have come to tell you that I've re-submitted the first chapter, and I'd appreciate it if you'd go through and read it and give me your opinion. I'm fairly sure I'm going to continue. Feedback would be wunnerful! -smiles-

Hugs and kizzes,

Ceriadara


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